


What Are You Saying, Princess?

by OhLookMoreFanFiction



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Affection, Angst, Apocalypse, Bath, Bathing, Becca - Freeform, Bellarke, CW, Canon, Character Development, Clarke and Bellamy - Freeform, F/M, Hugging, Hugs, Innocence, JUST KISS ALREADY, Kissing, Night, Relationship Development, Romance, Science Fiction, Sexual Tension, Tension, The 100 - Freeform, The CW, Water, becca's lab, bellamy and clarke - Freeform, bellamy x clarke, canonverse, clarke x bellamy - Freeform, head canon, hug, kiss, mellow, more than friends, otp, sci fi, science island, season 4, shower, showering, the 100 season 4, turning over a new leaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 00:38:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10425363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhLookMoreFanFiction/pseuds/OhLookMoreFanFiction
Summary: Bellamy visits Clarke in her room at Becca's mansion on Science Island (estimated 4x08/09). They share a heartfelt moment.





	

She could get used to the shower. Would probably still be in there if an apocalypse wasn’t coming.

Towel.

Shorts.

Towel.

Running fingers through tangled hair.

Towel.

Fresh shirt.

_God, Becca had good taste. Whatever this fabric is? It’s gotta be what the clothes in heaven are made of. So fricking soft._

She daintily tapped two buttons. The lights faded gently behind her as she left the bathroom, bunching wet curls with her palms. Clarke stopped short, one hand still on her scalp. Bellamy was standing a few feet in from the door, rooted like a solemn tree in the carpet. She didn’t think they were coming from Polis to the island until tomorrow morning.

His head was down. Way down. Clarke could barely see his face, but it rose when he heard her. It had only been a few days since they’d parted, but somehow, he looked older. Like he’d already fought the war and lost.

“Hey…” She breathed, trying to ease out of the silence. “Are you okay? Did the rover do okay in the rain?”

Bellamy looked at her pretty blankly and scanned the furniture to his left with no amusement.

“Nice place,” he muttered, barely parting his lips to speak.

 _How could one poor man look so, so tired?_ Clarke mused.

“Becca spared no expense. I think this bed is even softer than my bed on the Ark.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows a little, trying to lighten the impossible heaviness they always shared. His eyes had fallen on the carpet again. Shoulders slumped. Limp hands at his sides.

“The shower is pretty nice too. There’s a few up here, but you can take mine if you want a few minutes to yourself. I didn’t use ALL the soap.” She forced some glimmer into her eyes, trying to infuse him with the peace and quiet this room had been bringing her the last couple days.

He looked up when the small talk ceased, glancing at the ceiling and then at her. Misty eyes. Set jaw.

“We barely got out of Polis. Left half our ammo behind. Lost two men to a Grounder attack on the way. Our food is dwindling. No fresh water. I don’t even know if Octavia’s alive. And we have eight days.”

Bellamy waited briefly after each statement, letting them fall and clatter in the stillness. He stared at her the whole time too, his brown eyes never leaving her blues. She grimaced to show her sympathy, brow creasing in worry.

“Can I ask you something?” he whispered. His countenance suddenly switched from melancholy to earnestness.

Clarke took a couple steps toward him, searching his face intently as she approached.

“Anything,” she paused. “You know that.”

He deliberated for a moment, eyes skipping back and forth before reluctantly settling on Clarke.

“Can I have a hug?” The question was slow and steady, even-keeled and monotone.

Clarke couldn’t contain it. Her lip crooked on the right side, and she put her chin down to unsuccessfully hide the small, fleeting smile.

They stared for a beat: need ebbing from him and willingness coming off of her in waves. She closed the distance between them. Her lips parted, revealing her nerves. Clarke’s hands rose as if to begin the hug. They settled under the hollow notch at the base of his throat, gripping his jacket zipper and pulling down.

Bellamy leaned away just a smidge, looking at her, the jacket, and then her again. She gazed up in a soothing way, hushing his fears. He studied her face as she worked, marveling at the golden skin and pink cheeks just inches away.

The vibrating ‘zzzzzz’ of the zipper eventually stopped as Clarke tugged to separate the two strands. He attempted to shrug the jacket off himself, but she swiftly was behind him, easing it up and off his sore shoulders. She gripped his fingers when one hand wouldn’t quite come through the cuff.

He watched her curiously, like an exotic animal, as she walked away. She arranged the sleeves and draped the jacket over the back of a chair, hand coming to rest on it before she turned around.

She had disarmed him. The mellow glow of the low lights illuminated his tan complexion, a shade not so different from the beige shirt he wore. His features were disarmed too. Wider eyes. Parted mouth. Chin a little higher in guarded anticipation.

Her bare toes scrunched pleasantly on the carpet as she drifted toward him. Much slower this time, since he was without armor now. They finally stood face to face, or more accurately, him towering over her. The rain drummed on the roof overhead. For these minutes, they could forget it was deadly.

She glanced down and was instantly consumed by his wounds. Her thumb unconsciously brushed the rash, her small hand only making it halfway around his forearm. Acid rain spared no one.

He mustered the most convincing look possible. “It doesn’t hurt,” he reassured.

She squinted just a touch, enough to challenge him. Bellamy knew better than to lie to her. It never paid off.

“…… much,” he rumbled.

Clarke let a breath out of her nose, giving him an exasperated look before shooting onto her tip-toes and embracing his wide shoulders. He wasn’t ready, taking a step back as her forehead came to rest on his neck. Bellamy hesitated respectfully before wrapping his own arms around her. He soaked up her optimism. Her joy. Her fortitude. She breathed in his grit and courage.

When the moment had played out, he let his hands slowly drop to his sides again. Clarke didn’t move. In fact, she wrapped her hands even tighter around his shoulder blades.

“Sorry. Just…” she sighed sharply. “Trying to make sure I remember what hugging you feels like… just in case… if…”

She trailed off and felt the awkwardness, so her arms began unwinding from his neck. But just as she began to pull her head from the crook of his neck, Bellamy grabbed her again. He pulled her to him, this time wrapping around the small of her waist. His finger pads buckled her shirt, clutching the bumps of her spine and registering the lack of bra. The first hug was polite. The second hug was honest.

Clarke could feel him feeling her. His chest felt hard and soft all at once, two flimsy layers separating him from her breasts. Something was so wrong and so right. She should be pushing him away or saying something, but she couldn’t help but melt into him. The solace was too overwhelming, and he was so warm, and it was the end of the world.

“You smell nice.” His lips had brushed her ear lobe when he spoke. Something deep down in her fluttered.

“What?” she asked into the crook of his neck. The smile was evident in her voice.

“I said you smell nice. Your hair. It’s… nice.” They pulled apart, Clarke tugging her shirt down as he put his hands on his hips.

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning toward him with a grin.

“You could get in on that action. Like I said… there’s more soap.” She gave him a knowing look and turned to leave him in privacy.

“You saying I smell bad, princess?” Bellamy called softly after her. He raised an eyebrow in affection.

She stopped in the doorway and peered over her shoulder. Clarke theatrically shook her head and floated out of the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Just had some feelings about the potential reunion we'll get in 4x09.  
> I play it safe.  
> Sorry if it's much too tame for some of you lovely readers!
> 
> Tumblr - @teambingewatch
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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